


Trial and Error

by DoNotEatRaw



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Captain Allura, Coran is a perfect mix of Gina and Boyle, Detective Lance - Freeform, District Attorney Pidge, Judge Shiro, Keith is Sofia, M/M, Rivalry, Sergant Hunk, brooklyn 99 au, lawyer keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-23 01:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8308276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoNotEatRaw/pseuds/DoNotEatRaw
Summary: AU In which Lance has a fantastic date with Keith only to find out that Keith is the defensive attorney of criminal Lance has spent weeks trying to throw behind bars. And Lance does not take this news lightly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Guyssss this is the Brooklyn 99 AU based on Jake and Sofia (my second otp). I'm ignoring all the parts where Jake and Sofia broke up because ITS PERFECT.
> 
> GUYS I NEVER PUT A FUCKING SUMMARY ON HERE ON NOOO

     The bar was the source of comfort for Lance for many reasons. He must have closed over two hundred cases involving a bar since he first became a detective. It was never a specific bar, but all bars were in some way consistent and familiar. The dark lighting, the shinny counters, the smell of musty sweat and windex; it was Lance's home away from home. His happy place.

     But it was also his mopey place, and right now he was feeling especially mopey.

     He was justified in this feeling. He had just solved a big case—arrested three drug dealers that led him to the main dispatcher; the de facto leader, Justin Beckinham. It was hard tracking him down when he was only know as, "The Neck Biter" (and when Lance caught him, it's best believed that he made at least four kink-shaming jokes). But no amount of jokes could lighten his mood, and no amount of catching kinky drug bosses would, either. Nope, Lance had been feeling in the slump, and he was felt particularly shitty today.

     "I don't understand why you're so hung up on her," Hunk said, loosening his tie before bringing his glass to his mouth hesitantly as if it were scolding hot. Hunk was in no way a light weight, but he was very sensitive about his liquor. The poor dude couldn't stomach too much before it gave him a queasy stomach, and he was already pushing his limit by drinking as much as he had with Lance. "Nyma was never even into you."

     "Thanks, Hunk," Lance replied flatly, "that makes me feel so much better." Hunk shrugged, going for another sip.

     "I think you need to move on. It's been, what? Two months since she transferred precincts? She said she never had feelings for you." Lance sighed into his hands, rubbing his eyes.

     "Yeah, I know. It just... kind of sucks? I really thought she liked me," he replied glumly. Hunk eyed his next drink curiously, probably gaging whether he could stomach another drink.

     "Yeah, but like I said, you should move on. Meet a new person! No dating co-workers, just a random fling to get you past this," Lance chewed on his cheek thoughtfully. A new fling?

     "Those never work out. I always try talking to them, and they just... fizzle! It's like no one is interested in what I have to say, or I can't bring myself to care what they say."

     "Well, what do you normally talk about on dates?" Hunk asked, pushing his drink away.

     "Normal stuff! Like my murder cases! Those are always super interesting. And my unsolvable ones? They're the ace up my sleeve, but it just... doesn't work." Hunk gave him an unimpressed look.

     "You think talking about murder," he paused to let the first part of his sentence sink in, "is a good way to start a date?"

     "I don't know; yes?"

     "No, Lance. You shouldn't even mention work. Talk about normal people things like books or something."

     "Hunk, this isn't 10th grade english class. Talking about books is like pinning the word 'nerd' on my forehead." Hunk opened his mouth to argue against him but then decided against it.

     "How about talking about your favorite movie? Or favorite food?" Hunk asked, tipping his head back to finish the last of his drink.

     Hunk's stomach suddenly growled very loudly, and his face started to bead with sweat. Lance knew exactly where this was going when he heard the noise of singing whales. He couldn't help the snort that came out of his nose when he heard the second growl. Lance was still as immature as he was when he first joined the New York Police Department eight years ago, and Hunk was still the same gassy detective. Thus, the combination was fucking hilarious. The number of inside jokes they had about Hunk's sensitive stomach was going up in the triple digits. Lance had so many metaphors to describe Hunk's sickness when drinking too much that he could fill a book.

     "Oh no, oh no," Hunk said, his cheeks puffing out. "I'm going to be sick."

     "You know, if you didn't get sick so often, you'd be amazing at shot games." Hunk didn't seem to appreciate the joke, but he doubled over before he could make a remark.

     "Why again do I always come out drinking with you?" He asked, laying his head on the table and sighing in relief when his forehead touched the cool surface.

     "Okay, Hunk, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to get you a water and call a cab, and then you're going home. Also, chew this piece of gum, your breath smells like the vomit on the underside of a mattress." Lance told him, pulling out a pack of gum and his phone to call an uber.

     "No, no," Hunk wheezed. "I don't want to leave you alo—" Hunk retched suddenly, covering his mouth as he tried to swallow whatever bile was rising in his throat. "That burns; okay, take me home."

     Lance nodded, "you made a good choice, buddy. I just called a cab, and I'm sending a water bottle with you, stay here." Hunk didn't look like he was going anywhere, but Lance made his point clear. Hunk had a habit of getting up randomly to order things off the menu or chat with new people whenever he was supposed to stay put. Sure this was how the two became friends, but it made it hard whenever they were on undercover missions, and Hunk had an urge to make friends with the barista.

     Lance walked up to the bar, clearing his throat loudly to catch the bartender's attention. "One water to go, please," the bartender nodded, and tossed him a bottle. Lance thanked him and asked to put it on his tab. He hadn't yet paid for himself or Hunk, but he didn't plan to leave he bar soon. While he was going to make sure Hunk got home, he had a lot more shot glasses and bad choices with his name on it. No sense in leaving the party early.

     "Hunk, come on, drink this," Hunk nodded, sitting up and downing the whole bottle in one go. "Are you sure you're not like... allergic to alcohol or something? You getting sick like this isn't really normal."

     "I have no idea, and I don't care; I'm never drinking again," Lance laughed at this. If he had a dollar for every time he heard Hunk say this, he wouldn't have to rely on shady bars for cheap alcohol.

     "Okay, up you go," Lance helped Hunk up, and together they stumbled towards the front door where Hunk's uber waited for him. It took a few minutes of maneuvering—skills perfected by many years of hailing a cab for a sick Hunk— to get the door open. When he did, Hunk practically collapsed in the back seat.

     "Remember, seatbelt! And don't forget: Allura wants us on time for the Carson trial, so don't be late!" Lance reminded him. Hunk nodded.

     "Thanks, Lance. I love you," Lance gave him a bright smile.

     "Aw, you're so sentimental when you're sick; I love you, too!" He turned to the driver, leaning across the passenger seat to hand him some cash. "Please get him there safely." He rattled Hunk's address off — an address more familiar than his own — before he leaned back and watched the uber tail lights pull out and drive away, blurring in the distance.

     Now was time for the real moping.

     Lance headed back to the bar, moving up from the back table to the counter. He was ready to really drink his sorrows now that he didn't have to feel guilty watching Hunk try to force himself to drink. Besides, these drinks were too great to pass up. While Lance had many bars he was acquainted with, this bar was one of the only one's that he was known on a first name basis. This place serve the best drinks—glasses chilled to perfection before pouring the best drink that cheap scotch had to offer.

     Lance knew a few people around the bar, too. Probably a few he had arrested at one point or another in the last eight years, or maybe they were bar regulars like him. Either way, Lance usually knew who sat at the front bar at almost any given time. _Hell's Grid_ —a name that Lance had personally tried to petition to change—was a nice, off map type of bar filled with only locals and very few tourists, just as Lance preferred. It stayed true to its name in that very few people knew about it, and it had become a hotspot for low-level locals.

     Because Lance was familiar with this bar and the few people who came to it, seeing a new face at the bar, chatting with the bartender— _Lance's_ bartender and friend, Hendricks— was a slight surprise. The real gut-punched was the fact that this new face was also really fucking hot. Yes, Lance used that term very loosely, but he would swear all the hard liquor in the world there's never been a truer statement.

 _Maybe Hunk was right,_ Lance thought _, I should loosen up. Time to move on._

     Lance took a seat on the stool next to the man.

     "Hello there," He said casually, leaning forward slightly to try and peer closer at this man's face. The man seemed to like the attention, and he smiled back, setting his glass back on the counter.

     "Hey."

     "I'm Lance," Lance told him. He was about to tell his usual stick, the ' _I'm a detective, and you're on my radar_ ' pick up line, but maybe for once he'd take Hunk's advice. No talking about work, just... casual conversation.

     "Keith. You from around here?" Keith asked, and he had a slight smile that he concealed with a drink. There was a flicker of fire in his eyes that made Lance's heart speed up in the same way it did whenever he was on a chase. He didn't know who Keith was, but he knew he was in for one hell of a night, no matter what route it took.

     "Weird, I was going to ask you the same question. I'm a born and raised New Yorker, how about you?"

     "Hm, not born, but I have been living here for awhile. Friend recommended this bar, said it had the best New York city could offer." Keith winked at him. "He wasn't lying."

     Oh. Fuck. Yeah.

_Okay, Lance, take it slow. Don't fuck this up for yourself. Be cool._

     "Do you like movies?" He blurted suddenly. _Fuck Lance, that wasn't cool!_ Oh man, the last time he got his pants in such a twist was when he first heard Nyma was transferring.

     "Oh, uh, yeah?" Keith said, slightly flustered. He took a drink quickly, eying Lance a little oddly. "Just to be sure, am I reading the atmosphere incorrectly?"

     "Depends; how are you reading it?" _Yes, back on track_. The Lance train has left the station. Keith narrowed his eyes a little, but the small quip on his lips did not go unnoticed, and Lance really liked to notice his lips. He wondered if Keith knew Lance was staring at his lips.

     Keith leaned forward considerably, and Lance knew instantly that he knew exactly what Lance wanted to do.

     "I'm kind of getting the vibe that you really want to do this." Keith pressed his lips against Lance's softly, but it took only a few short seconds to escalate into something that was beyond soft. Normally, Lance didn't just kiss random guys in bars, but he'd be lying if he didn't say this was the best kiss he's had in a long time, if not the best in his entire experience.

     "You're definitely on the right track," Lance whispered when he broke away. He hopped he didn't sound too out of breath, but hell if he wasn't finding it hard to breathe.

     Keith smiled at him again, but it was a larger smile than the ones he had previously given Lance, and Lance felt his stomach lurch. This guy had just upgraded from fucking hot to downright beautiful.

     Although, the sober part of Lance was still yelling that Keith had a mullet. But fuck it, Lance thought this was a fair deal. It wasn't even fair, and it seemed too good to be true.

     "I had a feeling I was," Keith responded, biting his lip and eyeing Lance's lips once more. Lance stood up a bit to kiss Keith again. The position he was in was rather painful, a halfway point between standing and sitting, and Lance decided to pull back away from Keith in order to stand up.

     "Do you like hamburgers? Because I know the best burger joint in the city is two blocks from here." Keith smiled at him again, and Lance grinned back. He honestly didn't know if he was drunk or just very happy, but either way he wasn't complaining.

     "Most people don't kiss strangers and then ask them on a date, you know," Keith teased, and Lance had to sit back down again, or his legs would fall out beneath him.

     "Well, I'm hoping after this date, we're not strangers anymore."

     "I gotta admit: I like your style, Lance." Keith stood up, pulling up Lance with him, and they walked together outside the bar and into the streets.

     They talked a little on the way to the restaurant, and Lance found out little tidbits of information about Keith. And in exchange, Lance gave him some of his own personal information. His favorite color (they argued on this one for awhile), favorite tv show (they both really loved Voltron as kids), and which burger joints were the best in New York City (Lance's friend and co-worker, Coran, ran several food blogs. He had proof that his burger joint was the best of the best).

     More than a few times they stalled on the way there. In one moment, as they waited for a walk light, Keith pushed him against the sign pole, and they made out so long they missed their chance. Lance proposed making a run for it (yeah, he was a cop, so what?), but Keith purposed a way to pass the time (they missed a second walk light).

     Lance also like to randomly kiss Keith when he happened to catch him staring. This made Keith blush like crazy, but Lance really liked surprising Keith with kisses turned make-outs. It was slightly too intimate for Lance to do this, but he couldn't stop himself. Maybe he was a little too drunk, or maybe he just really liked kissing Keith. Either way, he didn't stop the entire way to the restaurant.

     The burger joint was almost entirely empty when they got there. It was a little past 10 on a weekday, so that was to be expected. Lance preferred it this way because they got their food quickly and had all the room they could possibly want.

     "Okay, okay, let me guess," Lance said slowly. They had been talking for forty minutes, and so far they had done more in that time frame than Lance did on the entirety of most of his dates. "Piano?" Keith shook his head, and Lance snapped his fingers. What kind of detective couldn't figure out what his date played in highschool band? Allura probably would have known the moment she laid eyes on Keith, but then again, Allura was a captain (and Lance had a sneaking suspicion she was a section leader as well).

     "Okay, so it was in a high school band," Lance said, trying to restate his facts and examining his french fry. Keith had already finished his burger and reluctantly gave in to admitting that _Greg's_ had the best burgers in the city. Now, they were sharing a hot Sunday (Keith shamed Lance for eating fries with ice cream, and Lance could only think he was so adorably wrong).

     Keith nodded, leaning on his hand to look at Lance more closely, and Lance found himself again wondering how anyone could be so handsome with a mullet.

     "I'll give you a hint; you probably know this instrument."

     "I know all the instruments! Like pianos, violins, harps, uh... guitars, and... flutes?"

     "Most of those are orchestra instruments, but you were warmer with the flute." Lance sunk lower in his seat, smiling down at himself.

     "Okay, I'll admit it. My knowledge on instruments is less than sub-par—" Keith hummed in agreement, and when he saw Lance's feigned offense, he laughed into his palm.

     "Alright, how about I give you a hint?" Keith offered.

     "That seems fair," Lance agreed, taking a spoonful of ice cream. Just as he leaned over to take a bite, Keith leaned over as well, his fingers grazing Lance's jaw and his breath soft against his ear.

     "It requires a very skilled mouth." Lance dropped his spoon, his mouth agape like a beached fish. He might as well be because he found himself breathless again. Keith sat back, smiling at him with the same pride a predator would have for it's freshly hunted meal.

     "Greg!" Lance yelled loudly, slamming a twenty dollar bill on he table and standing so suddenly he almost knocked his chair over. He grabbed Keith's hand, pulling him up, and Lance didn't miss that cocky smirk on his lips. "We're leaving right now, immediately!"

 

 

     "Good morning, Captain! Good morning, Sarg" Lance greeted Hunk and Allura as he walked off the elevator early in the morning, a bright smile on his face. Allura was already standing by Hunk, no doubt discussing the Carson trial, and Lance was just on time to have missed all the boring parts. Allura looked at him with surprise, but smiled back.

     "McClain, you're looking quite chipper for 8am." She commented.

     "Yeah, you look way too excited for a guy who's supposed to be really hung over," Hunk added suspiciously. "Are those last nights clothes?" He asked, his eyes flickering to Lance's wrinkled button up and stiff jeans.

     "Pfft, what?" Lance asked, voiced strained as Allura's smile melted into a ' _I actually thought you were being responsible_ ' disappointed frown. Damn, she caught on way quicker than he had hoped. "Okay, but I did run to grab my suit this morning, so I'm A-OK for the trial!"

     "You should hope so! You've been on this case for weeks now. I'd hate for you to lose this trial because of your irresponsibility." Allura told him sternly, crossing her arms behind her back. Allura was a great captain and all, but Lance had to admit she needed to loosen up a tad. He was worried her hands might meld together from being clasped so tightly all the time.

     "Relax, Hunk and I have this in the bag." Lance assured her.

     "He's right," Hunk agreed, his judgmental once over of Lance completed. He turned to reassure Allura. "We have an impeachable eyewitness who saw everything. Besides, Rolo is the defense attorney. How hard could it be to convince the jury that that scum is defending scum?"

     "Garret, however scum that scum is, we do not refer to them as such in the workplace," Allura scolded. She sighed a little before muttering, "but they are such a pain in my ass."

     "Anyways, the case is set. Hunk and I will testify and then it's done! No more diamond stealing for... Jared Carson?"

     "Jeffrey Carson." Hunk corrected. Okay, so maybe Lance was a little more disoriented than usual, but that's to be expected. He and Keith were up all night. They played Super Mario Brothers till two in the morning; that is in no way Lance's fault. Well, the whole having sex before the Wii U game was partially his fault, but the other parts he will deny have any say in.

     "Just when I think you've finally grown up, you manage to prove me wrong," Allura muttered, rubbing her temples. "Hurry up and don't be late." Lance saluted to her, giving her a warm smile. She rolled her eyes, but she smiled back, so Lance counted that as a win.

     She turned to walk back into her office as Hunk gathered his things off his desk.

     "Oh, and McClain?" She said, turning around. "I'm glad to see you're back to your usual self." Lance beamed back at her, knowing full well that he was more than his usual self. He was beyond ecstatic, and he was glad it showed.

     "Dude, what's up with you?" Hunk asked after a long (and awkward) elevator session curtsy of Lance. "You're acting kind of... weird,".

     It was weird to think that just a day ago, Lance was sulking and emotionally exhausted. Now he looked like he was ready to volunteer the rest of his life singing songs to homeless puppies and kittens.

     Lance gave Hunk a look—one Hunk knew very well, sadly— as they left the building and made their way to Lance's car. Lance yanked opened the passenger door, throwing the keys to Hunk, and began reciting his night while he buckled himself in.

     "I met this dude, right? Name is Keith. Total fucking score; you should have seen him! Prettiest eyes ever; kind of a straight forward flirt, but I have to admit, it was the best fling I have ever had." Hunk looked slightly impressed. Lance didn't normally have too many flings, but Hunk had never heard him proclaim a 'best'.

     Hunk couldn't look at Lance now that he was driving, but out of the corner of his eye he could see how animated Lance was as he began to talk about Keith in full detail. It kind of warmed his heart to think Lance was thinking of something other than his transferring co-worker, and Hunk was more than willing to subject himself to the excruciatingly long details about Keith.

     "He must have been something. What happened? And please, don't make it graphic." Hunk told him.

     "I told you what happened with Danielle _one time_ —" Lance cuts himself off with a sigh. "Anyways, here's the run down. After I sent you home, I went inside and saw him. We went to a burger place and talked for awhile. Did you know he likes Voltron? And he likes Jurassic Park, but he says the third one is his favorite which is kind of weird. I was willing to overlook it, of course, because he is a fantastic kisser. Like, top notch. Hunk, I am telling you—"

     "Okay, I get the point. So, did he just bring you to his house, and you guys had sex?" Lance made a strained face to keep from grinning.

     " _A lot_ more than that, but sure. And afterwards, he made banana milkshakes that were surprisingly good! We played with these weird darts he had, and then I fell asleep playing Smash Bros."

     "Sounds romantic and exactly like your perfect first date," Hunk snorted, but he could tell by the way Lance was talking that he was really hyped over this Keith guy.

     "Well, it wasn't a _date_ date. But when I woke up, I wrote him a note with my number. He was still asleep, and if I thought he was cute before, dude you should see him sleeping... Do you think he'll call me?" Lance turned in his seat to ask him, and Hunk glanced away from the road for a second to look at Lance. He could tell Lance was asking for advice. The poor dude had been shut down too many times for his self-confidence, and Hunk really hoped that this Keith guy was going to call him. Lance deserved as much.

     "Absolutely! Who wouldn't want to be with the Tailor?" Hunk asked, and Lance sat back and pulled Hunk's old sunglasses from the cupholder.

     "They call me Detective Tailor because of how I... Hunk I'm too hungover to think of something clever," Lance admitted, putting on the sunglasses in defeat.

     "Maybe because you're _sew_ good at solving cases?"

     "Ehh, we'll work on it."

     "Also, the Aspirin is in the glovebox," Hunk reminded him. Lance opened it and pulled out a bottle.

     "Is that even a safe place to store medicine?" He asked. Hunk shrugged, parking in front of the court building, and getting out. Lance took a chance and downed the aspirin and grabbed his suit from the backseat of the car.

     "Alright," Lance said, taking the steps two at a time to avoid being late. "I'll meet you in the court room in a few; I gotta go change."

     "Okay, but don't be late!" Lance winked at him.

     "I would never!" He waved to Hunk before turning down a corridor to find a bathroom. Thankfully, there was no one else in the room, and Lance could take his time without feeling judged.

     It didn't take Lance long to get dressed despite the small and cramped stalls. He still felt slightly crumbly and gritty, but it wasn't anything he couldn't live with.

     He wished he had cologne or something. As much as he liked the smell of Keith's apartment on his clothes, his suit did not share those properties. Last time he wore this suit was probably at his younger sister's graduation party, and it smelled like dust and mothballs.

     He had also been sweaty last night, and he didn't remember to grab his deodorant when he ran to grab his suit. Hopefully, whatever he had put on from last night was going to ride with him all morning. His breath was even more awful than how he looked. It tasted like soggy gum and bitter gym shoes. If Lance hurried, he might be able to steal all the mints out of one of the lawyers desks. His hair was poking up in weird places, and he splashed it down with water as best as he could. Lance basically had a magic girl transformation except it wasn't normal girl to superhero, it was 'obviously had a one night stand last night' to 'never showered after his morning jog'.

     Taking a deep breath of confidence, Lance ran the case details through his head as he sped towards his designated court room. There was no way Carson would be let off. Lance was going to kill this case, and then he'd be able to go back to the bullpen and work some new reports. Even if Allura made him wear his stupid tie, he would be glad that he'd be able to take off his stuffy coat. Lance had an ever growing hate for trials and courtrooms, and "proper attire etiquette" was high on the number of reasons why.

     Lance spotted Hunk in the front row of the court room and sat down next to him heavily, not trying to be quiet in the least bit. The judge looked at him curiously, and Lance recognized him as Judge Shiro. They were aquatinted, so when Shiro saw it was Lance noisily walking, he made a clear indication that he was not surprised.

     Hunk was already glaring at the defendant, and Lance could understand exactly why. Nasty asshole had been alluding them for months, and despite the evidence stacked against him, he might still try to weasel his way out.

     "Hey," Lance greeted Hunk in a breathless whisper. "Ready to put that jerk in jail?" He asked. Hunk nodded. He had been on Carson's tail for weeks before he had to bring in Lance's help, but even together, finding any witness was especially difficult.

     Pidge was already in the court room, too. When she heard Lance's loud entrance, she walked over to them. She was the District Attorney, and despite her being an attorney—the sworn enemy of all cops everywhere—the three of them had bonded over the many trials that Hunk and Lance testified at. Not to mention her brother was a cop and had worked a some cases with Lance a few years ago.

     Pidge leaned against the railing separating the rows of pews and the court, giving Lance a once-over. She raise an eyebrow, but she didn't look surprised. Subconsciously, Lance tried to smooth his hair down.

     "You look like crap," Pidge told Lance. Rgardless, he shook her hand when he saw her. He even smiled. It had been awhile since he has seen Pidge, and it was nice to see her again. He wasn't allowed to get too close with Pidge as then they'd have conflicts of interest, but he was close enough that he could talk freely around her and become friends.

     "Hello to you too, District Attorney Holt. I happened to have had the best date ever last night, so I may look like crap, but I feel fantastic," Lance told her, sitting back in his seat and sighing, thinking of Keith. He wondered what Keith was doing right now, and thinking of that made him think about last night's date.

     The most eventful part of the date—aside from the actual one night stand part, was when Keith had dared him to eat Greg's spiciest chicken wings with extra hot sauce. It was awful, but Lance didn't share his pain alone. Keith had ever been so kind to kiss him so that they'd share their pain together. As cheesy as it was, Lance had to admit: he was completely swooned by this guy.

     "Well don't get too comfy; Rolo is out, so keep on your toes," Pidge told him in a flat voice, and Lance frowned at her.

     "What, did Rolo break an arm high five-ing criminals he got out of jail?"

     "Did he get a murderer off who then murdered him to celebrate?" Hunk asked. Pidge rolled her eyes at them. She never really understood the whole cop and attorney rivalry, and Lance suspected it was only because her brother was a cop.

     "Rolo broke his leg, so they're having someone else fill in his place."

     "Filling in his place? He should be put down—like an animal." Lance jabbed. "So, who's the new inhuman piece of garbage who is not human?" Lance asked, stumbling over his words. Today was not his morning for the comeback field, and he knew it when Pidge began to snicker at him.

     Hunk patted his back in reassurance that he got his point across: defense attorneys were the NYPD's foil. All the work detectives did to put bad guys behind bars would sometimes be for nothing because of those damn defense attorneys. All they ever did was poke holes in their cases and try to let these dangerous criminals loose. If Lance had a dollar for every criminal he had to rearrest after being declared 'not guilty', he wouldn't even need to be a cop.

     Pidge's eyes flickered up at the sound of the court room doors opening. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear. Meet Keith Kogane: Jeffery Carson's new defense attorney."

     Lance whipped his head around, the blood draining from his face. Keith Kogane? No, Keith was a common name; it couldn't be—

     But sure enough, there was Keith, looking unfairly attractive as he walked down the isle in a suit and sat down at the defendant's table. There was no doubt in Lance's mind that it was the same Keith as last night. After looking at it for hours yesterday, Lance would be able to pin-point that mullet anywhere

     "Oh no," Lance mumbled quietly. "Oh fuck, I made a big mistake. I knew that date was too good to be true!"

     "Don't tell me..." Hunk trailed off, but he knew exactly what Lance meant when he glanced knto his eyes. "Lance you slept with a defense attorney? You are literally sleeping with the enemy!"

     "I didn't know he was a defense attorney! You're the one who told me not to mention work!"

     "How is it that the one time you don't mention work is the one time you should have actually mentioned work?" Hunk sighed in his hands as Lance threaded his hands through his hair.

     "Oh god, this is worse than when Lana agreed to marry Lex Luthor," Lance muttered.

     "Smallville doesn't count as canon, _Lance_ ," Hunk hissed, and Lance glared at him.

     "We have way more to deal with than if Smallville is canon or not, which it is!"

     "He's waving at you," Hunk whispered, and Lance turned to see Keith waving at him like he were a child, a slightly confused and surprised look on his face.

     "Heeey," Lance said to Keith, strained and sheepish. He turned back to Hunk. "I'm going to go talk to him, wish me luck."

     "I have faith in you," Hunk whispered loudly as Lance stood and walked towards Keith. Keith walked towards him as well, his strides much more confident than Lance's—probably because Keith was in his comfort place, the nest of snakes.

     "Hey," Keith greeted with his head cocked and his smile slightly strained, and Lance accidently overlooked the genuineness. "You never told me you were a cop." Lance crossed his arms across his chest and winced at the awkwardness of the conversation. He still couldn't believe it. A cop? Sleeping with a defense attorney? He was a disgrace to his entire precinct.

     "Yeah, well you never told me you were a lawyer." There was a slight bite to it, but Lance didn't notice. Lance noticed a dark blemish near the collar of Keith's shirt on his neck. Oh man, last night was the worst and best day of his life.

     "I was afraid it would intimidate you," Keith argued defensively like the lawyer he was, and Lance could already feel a rivalry stirring up between the two. This was so much worse than Rolo. At least he could actually look Rolo in the eyes knowing he had never had sex with him.

     "I'm only intimidated by jobs with a moral compass, like cops," Keith looked slightly offended, his eyes narrowing.

     "You're intimidated by your own job?" Lance bit his lip as he tried to think of a come back on the fly, but his mind was drawing a blank. Keith really did have pretty eyelashes, and they were extremely distracting.

     "Oho, look at me. I'm Keith, and I'm a lawyer with words lawyers in lawyering... places," Keith gave him a long look before Lance scoffed. "Okay, yes; I know that didn't make sense."

     It was Keith's turn to scoff next, staring up at Lance with hard set eyes and curled lips. "I can't believe I have to put up with this for a week."

     "It shouldn't be a problem; we clearly have conflicting interests, so I'm just going to talk to the judge and kick you off the case." Keith sucked in a sharp breath before laughing dryly

     "Excuse me? There's no conflicting interests because I'm not interested in you," he articulated his point by poking his finger into Lance's chest, and it took all of Lance's willpower not to think of last night when Keith last touched his chest. "I can't believe I actually slept with a cop! This is worse than the Red Paladin becoming a Galra agent for Zarkon." Keith spun around on his heel sharply, marching back to his seat.

     "Hey, I'm not Zarkon! You're Zarkon!" When Lance saw the curious glances looking at him around the court room he gave off what he hoped seemed like a friendly smile. "It's a, uh, Voltron... reference."

 

 

     "Full disclosure, your honor," Lance said firmly, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stood before Judge Shirogane in his enclosed office. Lance imagined that one day he could have a snazzy office like this with his own globe and non-ant-infested desk. But maybe some dreams were too big.

     Pidge was seated on his right, looking bored and slightly amused. Keith was seated next to her, huffing angrily like an angsty teenager every ten seconds and shaking his leg in impatient anger.

     Lance let out a deep sigh before speaking again, "Last night, Mr. Kogane and I got inebriated and had colitis."

     "Colitis?" Shiro asked in confusion.

     "Coitus," Keith corrected in exasperation. "You mean coitus."

     "It's the same thing."

     "No, colitis is an infection in your ass.  
Which, now that I think about it, would actually explain a lot about your personality!"

     "Well if I got colitis, then I got it from you last night!" Lance argued back. Keith looked ready to storm out or throw Lance out the window, and Lance wasn't entirely sure which one. But Lance was a cop; he was like 76% certain he could take on a _defense attorney_. Although, they're so slimy they can slip through anything.

     "A cop and defense attorney sleeping together," Shiro muttered at his desk. "I never thought I'd see the day."

     "This is," Shiro began again, but he paused to try and find the right words. "Highly unusual." Lance rose his hand.

     "Uh, yeah, objection? I didn't know he was a defense attorney at the time. I should have guessed given his ability to defend movies as mediocre as Jurassic Park III."

     "That movie is sentimental to me, you jerk," Keith shot back. "And stop trying to be funny; you're failing at it."

     "I wasn't trying, but I'm glad you think I am." Lance winked at him, and Keith glared back. "In all seriousness, your honor, I do think he should recuse himself from the trail."

     "Why? You think I'm going to tell everyone in the courtroom that you like to be the little spoon?" Keith asked.

     "Everyone likes to be the little spoon, Keith! It makes you feel safe! Pidge, back me up here."

     "It's true, your honor," Pidge told Shiro. "Little spoon is great."

     "See? Pidge agrees."

     "Look," Keith said flatly. "I'm not recusing me self. I talked to my client, and he is fine with me staying on."

     "Well, he's a diamond thief," Lance muttered to Pidge, knowing full well Keith and Shiro could hear him. "I wouldn't take his word for it." Pidge strangled a laugh in her hands before elbowing Lance away and clearing her throat.

     Shiro leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes, and Lance thought it was funny how similar he looked to Allura. Maybe it was the stress. Or maybe it someone they both knew, but Lance couldn't think of anyone they both worked with.

     "Look, if the defendant is fine with it and you two can be mature in the court room, then I see no problem as to why we can't proceed." Lance sucked in his bottom lip, resisting the urge to glare at Keith.

     "I can be mature!" Lance exclaimed.

     "You spent ten minutes crafting the perfect smiley face on your burger last night." Keith reminded him.

     "Hey," Lance said, pointing to him. "You said it was cute; that's the only reason I continued to do it." Keith looked away from him, and Lance noticed the red blush on his face and neck. "Besides, faces are cool! They're works of art! Back me up, Pidge."

     "Well, they're just going to get smushed under the bun, so—"

     "Pidge, really?" Lance grumbled, cutting her off. She just shrugged before Shiro ushered them all out of his office, pinching the bridge of his nose.

     "I don't know if I can survive this week," he mumbled to himself.

 

 

     When the court resumed, Lance set off to find Hunk. Together, they sat in the front row once again, but this time, Lance kept his eyes on Keith.

     "Are you nervous?" Hunk asked, glancing over at Keith.

     "Me? No. We have our eyewitness. Our defense is solid." Lance readjusted the buttons on his suit jacket. "Plus, whenever Keith looks at me, I'm going to blow kisses at him to remind him that he made out with me multiple times last night." Lance made a face like a fish, puckering his lips and making loud sucking noises. Hunk would have actually felt bad for Keith if he wasn't a blood-sucking defense attorney. "It's simple psychology, Hunk."

     Someone behind Lance shushed him, and Lance shushed them loudly back. The court case was beginning, but Lance was too preoccupied. "Some people, am I right?" He asked Hunk.

     "Allura is going to kill us," was all Hunk could respond with.

  
     "And you are sure that this is the man you saw leaving the store at the time of the diamond heist? " Keith's voice echoed through the room as he walked towards Lance's witness. He spun back around with enough force that Lance thought he either had the bones of a cat or broke his back. Keith pointed at Jeffrey Carson in clarification, and the witness nodded.

     "Yup," the witness agreed. "That's him." Keith nodded, stepping closer again with a manila folder in his hand.

     "Now, Mr. Wells, says here that you have a 2006 conviction for perjury. Is this correct?"

     "Um, yes," he agreed. Lance leaned over to Hunk.

     "It's okay," he whispered, "I knew about that."

     "And is Sidney Wells actually your name, or is it Brian Davidson?" Keith continued.

     "Uh oh," Lance whispered.

     "Uh oh? What do you mean 'uh oh'?" Hunk asked him, and Lance grimaced.

     "I did not know about that one."

     "As in," Keith continued again, a smile on his face, "the Brian Davidson who is faced with fraud charges in New Jersey?"

     Davidson nodded, looking like a mouse pinned by a cat. "Yeah."

     "Or that," Lance added, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. "Okay, time to bust out the psychology." He started to pucker his lips, blowing kisses with his hands and making small noises with his mouth. Pidge turned around to stare at him wildly, and Lance winced when Judge Shiro made eye contact with him and gave him a questioning look.

     "Fuck, it failed," Lance whispered.

     "No further questions, your honor," Keith told Shiro, and when he turned around to walk back, he winked at Lance, and Lance couldn't help the pout on his face.

     Oh no. There was no way in hell he was losing this case to _Keith_.

 

 

     "Judge gave us recess, but if we don't find new evidence by tomorrow, Carson is as good as gone," Pidge said to them, shoving her hands in her pockets. They were gathered outside the court room, and while Lance knew that what Pidge was saying was important, he couldn't help but to glare at Keith down the hall talking to his client. Why did he have to be a defense attorney? He should have been a cop! Maybe then he wouldn't have such a sour personality.

     "Lance," Pidge said loudly, snapping her fingers in his face. "Are you even listening?"

     "Yeah," Lance said, not taking his eyes off Keith. "New evidence. Hey, can you give me a sec?" Not waiting for Pidge's response, Lance walked down the hall to where Keith was talking to an older man wearing a blue suit. Probably another mucky lawyer.

     "Hey," Lance called, stalking loudly over to Keith. When Keith saw him, he pursed his lips in annoyance. "Real mature with the winking back there."

     "Says they guy making kissing faces at the judge!" Keith argued, frowning deeply.

     "Hey, those kisses were for you!" Keith looked taken a back for a moment before Lance realized what he had said. "In a mocking, non-romantic way, of course!" When Keith didn't look convinced, Lance groaned into his hands.

     "Psychology, Keith! Like getting into your head and stuff?"

     "I don't think it worked, Lance," Keith reprimanded, and Lance couldn't decide whether it was annoyingly irritating or endearing how amused Keith sounded.

     "We both know that your guy is guilty!" Lance argued.

     "Doesn't matter what we think; we aren't the ones who decide if my client is guilty." Keith told him flatly, moving his files from one arm to the other.

     "Yeah! What he said! You don't decide," Jeffery taunted from behind Keith, and Keith rolled his eyes. So apparently Keith found Jeffrey just as annoying as Lance did.

     Keith twisted around briefly. "Hey, stop talking?" Keith told him. He turned back to Lance. "My entire job is based upon making sure you did your job well enough to prove someone committed a crime. It's been around since lawyers were first conceived, don't take it too harshly."

     "Well, you don't have to worry because once I find that evidence, I'll have proved Jeffrey stole all those diamonds!"

     "That means I'm doing my job correctly." Lance looked at him for a moment, and he felt himself trapped in some kind of checkmate. Why did the best kisser in the world have to be an attorney? What kind of ill-fated luck was that? Especially because it made it increasingly difficult to fight with Keith when all Lance wanted to do was forget this trial and kiss him in the janitor's closet till sundown.

     "Fact is," Keith said, leaning in closer to Lance, "without a credible witness, your case is a total hit and miss. Just like your dart game." Keith walked away from him after that, still keeping his eyes on Lance, and Lance had to use every bit of strength not to turn around and watch him leave. Damn, how did he smell so good? Why did he have to be so close, but still so unobtainable?

     "Hunk," Lance yelled, walking back down the hall where the sergeant stood. "We're getting that damn evidence. Call the office, we're holding a meeting with Allura immedaitely. Pidge, wanna tag along?"

     "Sure, why not? Pretty sure my day has just been cleared," she replied, following Hunk and Lance towards the exit of the building.

     "If you're trying to make fun of me for having a witness who is possibly the worst witness in history, you'll have to do better," Lance told her. "Mom says my head is so thick that no ones words can hurt me."

     "I have no idea if that's supposed to be encouraging or not."

     "He probably doesn't, either," Hunk mumbled to Pidge.

     "Hunk, I will arrest you for assaulting my feelings!" Lance told him, throwing open the front doors of the concrete building. He ran down the stairs quickly, Hunk and Pidge trailing close behind.

     Hunk snorted when he heard this. "Lance, Allura will have your head before you could even think about cuffing me. I am her favorite."

     "I will fight you on that Hunk; I already betted Coran that I was her favorite." Lance yanked open the passenger car door, and Pidge tried to wiggle the door of the backseat. It was jammed, and she was forced to move around the back.

     "God, this car belongs in a dump," she muttered when she slid in, the leather squeaking under her. "And it smells like old cabbage."

     "I'll have you know I lost my virginity in this car," Lance told her, and her face twisted in horror when he pointed to the seat next to her. "This car is my lifeline."

     "That's... gross as fuck," Pidge seemed at a loss for words, but Lance only shrugged.

     "Sentimental value is the most important value of all."

     "I'll take your word for it."

     When they got to the precinct, Pidge quickly chatted up the other detectives. She was a regular, and her appearance was no shock to anyone.

     "Pidge," Allura greeted when she saw the small woman through her office window. "It's nice to see you again." Allura's eyes slid to Lance and Hunk, and when she saw their expression, her smile melted.

     "Oh no. I take it the case didn't go well?"

     "Lance slept with the defense attorney!" Hunk said loudly, and Lance's hand flung to his mouth to try and stop him.

     "You what?" Allura said with an accusing look, frowning at Lance.

     "Look, I didn't know he was on the case—"

     "You're contaminated!" She said in horror. "Damn, I can't believe it. Those damn lawyers got McClain, and just when I thought of giving him a raise."

     "Wait, seriously?" Lance asked, a new smile on his face.

     "No, not seriously! Tell me what's going on; how is the case?"

     "Lance's _witness_ ," Pidge began, her eyes glaring at Lance. Okay, so maybe Lance didn't really do the best background check ever, but Hunk was kind of in this, too.

     " _Our_ witness; Hunk and I did this together," Lance reminded her, pointing between Hunk and himself.

     "Their witness turned out to be a fraud. His word is entirely unreliable, and even if it wasn't, the jury wouldn't believe him." Allura rubbed her temples.

     "Okay, so what's the next step?" She asked.

     "Evidence. If we find the diamonds or the break-in tool, we'll have enough evidence to convict him." Lance told her, straightening his back and shoving his hands in his pockets. From this point onwards, Lance decided, he was going to be entirely serious. Until he beat Keith, he was going to be the perfect detective.

     "Alright, let's think," Allura said calmly. "Where does he live? Depending on the age of the house, there maybe be some places we didn't think to look."

     "The apartment building has been renovated a lot, but judging by their structure of it, maybe the mid 1800's?" Hunk proposed, and Lance didn't know how Hunk knew that or why, but he was too amazed to ask.

     "Some old houses built back then have dumbwaiters," Allura added. "I worked a case where someone stashed a bunch of cash in one. It'd be the perfect hiding spot."

     "Allura, you're a genius! I could kiss you right now!" Lance exclaimed.

     "Three things. Don't kiss me; you probably got rabies from that attorney. Secondly, call me captain. And thirdly: you're wasting time! Get to it." Allura exclaimed.

     "Hunk, let's go. If we hurry, we can turn the evidence in by this afternoon. Pidge, you still coming or no?" Pidge was sitting on Lance's desk, looking uninterested as she played with a rubber band ball from his draw.

     "Gonna have to pass. Matt is going to be here soon, and I want to be the first to tell him about this whole attorney-cop thing you have going on with Keith." Lance groaned in his hands again.

     "Please don't. He's going to tell Coran, and then Coran is going to tell the entire squad in a formal email about all being on the same page or whatever. I will never live it down."

     "You're not going to live it down anyways," Hunk told him. "This blemish will forever be remembered. The day you slept with an attorney: the downfall of Lance McClain."

     "Well, it's more like two days because—" When Lance saw Allura crossed face, he trailed. "Right, yes, trial. Pidge, don't be a gremlin, see you tomorrow morning!"

 

 

     Lance pried opened the doors of the dumbwaiter, shining his flash lights around the silver compartment.

     "It's crazy we don't still have these," Lance called aloud, hearing his own voice echoing against the metal walls. "They would be so useful."

     "They still exsist, Lance. And why would you need one? So you can stick the clothes you're too lazy to wash in there? You'd killed everyone in the building with mold and god knows what else." Hunk said next to him, glancing past his shoulders.

     "Rude; I would not do that," Lance commented, not finding anything inside the dumbwaiter. "But they'd still make life hell of a lot easier." He pulled his head out, glancing around the frame of the compartment.

     "How do you move these things?"

     Hunk scooted him aside, and Lance watched him work around the compartment to reveal a tight and old rope. He pulled on the rope, and the dumbwaiter screeched as it slowly inched down the shaft.

     "So what's the deal with you and Keith?" Hunk asked, still pulling. Lance waved off the question even though he knew Hunk couldn't see him.

     "Nothing is the deal. I know he's an attorney—I get it scum of the Earth blah, blah," Lance said.

     "That's not what I meant. This morning you were talking about him like he was a god-send, and now you hate him because he's a lawyer? Maybe that's taking this rivalry a tad too far?"

     "Hunk, I _never_ take things to far. It's just not my nature. And secondly, I was so not talking about him like that. Sure, last night was great. Like best date ever great, BUT he is a lawyer, and I'm a detective. I don't hate hate him; I just strongly disagree with who he is as a person and everything he stands for."

     "Lance," Hunk said, looking away from rope to give him an incredibly blank face.

     "Okay, I get it. You doubt my intentions with him. But I will assure, nothing will ever happen with him again."

     "No, see that's the problem," Hunk told him, grunting when the rope got caught. "You obviously like him. A lot—"

     "A little!"

     " _A lot_. You shouldn't let this rivalry get to your head. You might miss something and regret it later." Hunk gave the rope one last tug, but the dumbwaiter was jammed stuck. "This is as far as it'll go, try and take a look if you can squeeze."

     The dumbwaiter was almost half way down the small opening, so Lance could just barley poke his entire head through. He shined the light up the shaft, and when he saw something shiny reflect back, he gave out a loud hoot.

     "Hunk, baby," Lance called, reaching up and grabbing a small bag taped to the side of the compartment. "We have found our break-in weapon! Hasta la later, Keith! This case is our's, now."

 

  
     Lance was completely prepared for the case today. Not only did he rent out a new suit just for this occasion, he broke out his $25 cologne and hair gel. He looked better than he had in weeks, and he was going to defeat Keith at his own game. No more thinking Keith smelt good. No, now it was Lance who would he smelling good. He even went as far as using his special occasion cinnamon scented exfoliator with a charcoal base. He was pulling out all the stops on this one, and it felt petty and amazing as hell.

     He knew his plan had worked because when Keith walked pasted him that morning, he had to turn around to glare at him a second time.

     "Good morning, _Keith_ ," Lance replied slyly.

     "Lance, you're looking considerably less shitty today." Keith bit back.

     "Why thank you, but I can't take all the credit. I was just lucky enough to be born with god-given beauty."

     "That's funny, did you practice that in the bathroom last night before bed?"

     "We both know exactly what I do before bed," Lance told him, and Keith rolled his eyes, but Lance was a detective after all. He could notice the falter in his mask a mile away. Keith was actually _smiling_ at him.

     "Just get ready for your case," Keith advised. "You're going to need the preparation."

     "Trust me, I've done enough preparing. This case is unbreakable." Lance affirmed with a smug look.

     "We'll have to see about that."

     After that, Lance's case began to fall apart all too quickly, and it was because of the continuous thorn in his side: Keith Kogan.

     "So, Detective McClain, you found some 'new' evidence last night?" Keith asked, walking towards him with an irritatingly confident stride. Lance almost snorted when Keith used finger quotations. Not that it was cute because it most certainly was not cute. At all.

     He hated being in the witness stand. It had the best and worst view in the entire room: Keith Kogane's face. But he was willing to put aside his hatred for the time being because there was no way he was letting Carson go. He couldn't let Keith win.

     "Correction; I found some damning evidence! His break-in tool; it's one of the most solid types of evidence. Not to mention the fact that it was hid in the shaft of an old dumbwaiter. That seems pretty suspicious if you ask me, which you did because you're a lawyer and apparently that's all lawyers ever do aside from the whole, letting criminals go part." Lance challenged, and Keith glared daggers at him.

     Shiro coughed loudly into his fist, sending a Keith Kogan-worthy glare at Keith and Lance discreetly. Lance looked away to continue talking. He was supposed to be serious right now. No time for messing with Keith; Lance could do that after he crushed him in this case.

     "We found a bag taped to the side of a shaft of the dumbwaiter in his house. It contained all his burglary tools, including a glass cutter which he used to break into the store."

     "Yes, but glass cutters have many uses. I know that might be hard to conceive considering you cops tend to rush into situations narrow-minded—"

     "Sorry, we can't find loop holes in everything so we can get away with murder and theft." Lance argued.

     "Trust me," Keith told him, looking him right in the eyes. "It pays off when dealing with loud and annoying cops."

     "Excuse me, _gentlemen_ , but can we please get back to the case at hand?" Shiro growled at them. "I thought you both agreed to be mature about this!" He whispered harshly to them, ignoring the questioning looks from the jury.

     "Sorry; I'll be serious from now on: detective's honor." Keith snorted at Lance's statement.

     "Like that means something." Lance glared at him with his mouth open.

     "Hey—" before he could get in another word, Shiro cleared his throat loudly.

     "Maybe I should reconsider my earlier decision if you both cannot get along." Keith looked at Shiro sheepishly before nodding. Pushing his hair back, he straightened his shoulders, and Lance had to remind himself again that Keith was strictly off-limits.

     Continuing with his case, Keith spoke to Lance again. "So do you agree or not? Stuff can be used for multiple purposes? Including a glass cutter."

     "It was taped—"

     "Do you agree or not?" Keith asked again. Lance looked at him squarely for a moment, drinking in the look of accomplishment on his face. Dammit.

     "Yes, I agree." He grumbled. "But we found shards of glass in the bag! The same glass from the store where he stole the diamonds."

     "And you just happened to find this 'new' evidence yesterday right when your entire case collapsed around you?"

     "I expect you to believe it because it's the truth," Lance said firmly. "And it's not what you believe, Mr. Kogane. The evidence is apparent," Lance flicked his head to the jury. "They decide if the evidence is coincidental or not." Keith looked slightly shocked that Lance had used his own words against him, and Lance sat back with his hands laced behind his head and a intentionally dazzling smile on his lips. "No more questions, your honor." He declared.

     Shiro rested his head in his hands tiredly. "You don't get to say that, Detective."

     "Yeah, I kind of figured after I said it. But it still sounded cool, right?"

 

 

     "Oh, no. You have got to be kidding me," Lance grumbled angrily as he pushed passed Pidge and Hunk to throw open the court doors. Keith was still here, and Lance could see people congratulating him. Lance narrowed his eyes at him, placing his hands firmly on his hips when peering at him.

     "I bet you're real proud of yourself," Lance told him. "No really, great job. Another criminal walks free because of you; your family must be so proud."

     Keith set his files back on the defendants table with a sly smile on his face. "Maybe you should stop calling my client a criminal? The jury did decide he was not guilty."

     "Oh yeah? Well I find myself not guilty of never seeing you again!" Keith cocked his head at him, squinting at him questioningly.

     "So you _will_ see me again?" He asked, eyebrow raised. Lance bite his lip with a strained smile, trying to come up with a response.

     "No!" He exclaimed. "Why what did I say?" He muttered.

     Keith opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Lance groaned. "Ugh! You're the worst! I'm leaving!"

     Lance turned away from Keith, rushing down the aisle and shoving the doors open violently. He ignored Hunk and Pidge's questioning looks as he sped away from the court room.

     Before he could get away though, Hunk grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. "Lance, what are you doing?"

     "Walking away angrily! I can't believe we lost, dammit!" he cursed. Hunk's shoulder shagged slightly, and he shook his head at Lance. "Why are you shaking your head at me? Is this going to be another one of your 'insightful Hunk opinions' because need I remind you, last time I did that—"

     "You had the best date of your life?" Hunk asked. Lance looked at him sternly, but he couldn't argue against that.

     "Fine. Please, enlighten me."

     "Look, dude. Don't mess this up. I hate defense attorneys as much as any other guy, but you have to admit it. You obviously like Keith, and I think he really likes you, too."

     "Yeah, I like him! I like to argue with him, and I'd also like to see him lose a case so I can rub it in his face."

     "You mean you want to do another case with him because then you get to talk to him again." When Lance did say anything back to him, Hunk let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, take my advice or not. It just looks like you've met your match."

     "Th—"

     "You said yourself! None of your dates have been successful! And the one time one is, you plan on walking away from it? Come on, admit it. Keith is fun!"

     "Alright, yes, Keith is fun when he isn't defending criminals in court." Lance admitted, looking at the ground in defeat. "And I guess he's _kind of_ cute. I mean, the mullet kind of kills it, but he still has pretty eyes."

     Hunk gave him an unconvinced look, and Lance scoffed. "Alright, he's hot! God, I can't believe I'm about to ask out a defense attorney." Lance muttered. Hunk clasped his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly which was actually really painful considering Hunk was the strongest man on the squad.

     "Ow, ow," Lance winced. "Too much, Hunk! Too much!"

     Hunk let go with a small apology, but Lance was already jogging back to the courtroom. When he looked inside, his stomach lurched. It was empty. That meant either Lance had to try and find Keith's office now or wait for Keith to call him, which seemed likely to be a never.

     Lance stepped back out of the courtroom, looking around the hallways, but he didn't recognize any mullets. Actually, Lance found himself surprised that there were quite a few mullet-wearing lawyers, and while normally that would have been added to the list of 'Reasons Lance Hates Lawyers', he was willing to let it slide for Keith.

     "Pidge!" Lance called when he spotted her by the women's bathroom, her hands still dripping wet.

   "Why are your hands wet?" He asked when he jogged over.

     "I don't trust hand dryers," she said simply, and if Lance had more time, he would have questioned her about this more intensely.

     "Quick, where's Keith's office?"

     "How the hell am I supposed to know?" Pidge asked with an incredulous look on her face.

     "Augh, I don't have time for anymore lawyer questions! I need to find Keith," Lance said quickly before running down the halls and taking a sharp left.

     "What the hell is he doing?" Pidge asked Hunk when he approached her.

     "Besides going against everything he was ever taught about the stigmas of romance in the law?" Hunk asked wistfully. "He's pursing love."

     "I kind of know why Keith hates detectives now," Pidge admitted. Hunk frowned at her.

     "Why are your hands wet?"

 

 

     "Hey." Keith whipped around when he heard Lance behind him. Confused, he closed his book and placed it on his desk.

     "Lance? What are you doing here? How did you even find me?" He asked, stepping closer. Lance casted his eyes to the ground, hoping to look dramatic. He wanted this moment to be kind of special, and drama was all he really knew.

     "You forget; I am a detective." Keith crossed his arms across his chest. _Alright_ , Lance thought, _so dramatic love scene is a no-go_. "I also ran into a bunch of wrong offices on the way here. But I did manage to grab a shit-ton of peppermints."

     Keith didn't seem interested in Lance's peppermints. He simply glared at Lance accusingly. "You here to yell at me for doing my job again?"

     "Okay, I deserved that." Lance admitted. "I'm sorry I got caught up in this stupid rivalry."

     "So you're here to apologize?" Keith asked, and he looked confused. Lance tended to do that a lot, they both noticed. But when Keith looked confused, he had a slight frown in forehead, and this time Lance wasn't ashamed to admit that it was adorable as hell.

     "Well, sorta. I'm also here to ask you out. Like, on a date."

     "Oh." Keith said simply, his confusion melting into surprise.

     "Yeah, there's a bar not too far from here, and they have darts. This time, I'm not going to be too drunk to play. I was hoping we could grab a drink, talk, and then, with any luck, things will get uncomfortably competitive."

     "That does sound fun," Keith agreed, and he stepped closer to Lance, and Lance couldn't help the lazy smile on his face. "But if we're going on a date, then we have to layout some ground rules." Keith leaned closer so his hand was gripping Lance's tie. Keith still smelled really good, even better than Lance's "good" cologne.

     "Rule number one: no work talk."

     "Fantastic," Lance agreed. "We can skip right to the making out on your desk!" Without thinking rationally, Lance abandoned his 'no dramatic love scene' rule. Quickly, he swiped his hands on the brown desk, knocking off all the pencil holders, staplers, and folders in one swoop. Okay, so maybe he took that a little too far.

     "Yeah, Lance, that isn't my desk," Keith said slowly. He leaned against the brown desk opposite to the desk Lance had just cleared. "This one is."

     "Oh, I see." Lance said calmly. They both looked at each other for a moment, and Lance saw Keith resisting the urge to laugh. "Wanna blame the janitor and make a break for it?"

     "Absolutely," Keith said with a grin, and Lance giddily took his hand. Only the first date, and they were already running away from the scene of their crimes. Lance took that as a good omen.

 

 

     "What the hell? You were not this good on Sunday!" Keith said firmly, watching as Lance came back victorious after scoring three damn-near bull-eyes.

     "I have natural marksmanship! You should have seen me back in my college days. The amount of money I earned hustling was enough to pay all my monthly food bills." Lance told him, sliding next to him at their table.

     "A cop hustling? Never heard of that one," Keith hummed lowly. Lance smiled, leaning closer to him.

     "Don't worry, I can show you lots of new things." Lance leaned in to kiss him, but just as he was less than an inch away, Keith bursted out laughing. If his laughter wasn't so heavenly (No, Hunk was not right about Lance treating him like an angel), Lance might have been slightly offended. But Keith just leaned into Lance's shoulder, resting his head on his collarbone, and Lance could feel him shaking from laughter.

     His laughter must have been contagious because soon Lance found himself laughing along. "What's so funny?" He asked.

     "You. You're ridiculous." Keith said, pulling his head up. Swiftly, he pressed his lips to Lance's, kissing him firmly, and it was just as sweet and tangy as Lance remembered it. There was no getting used to this feeling, but Lance really hoped he'd get the chance to try for a really long time.

     "Well, at least I'm not a nerd." Lance said when Keith pulled away. Keith had a heavy blush, and he was quick to deny Lance.

     "Nope, nope," Lance argued. "I saw your Pokemon collection on your bookshelf. Alphabetized and listed greatest to least according to CP. Not to mention those cute doodles you have on the dividers; those were my favorite."

     If Keith was blushing before, he was blushing even more now. He looked as red as wine, and he leaned into Lance to groan softly.

     "No one is supposed to know I have that," he mumbled into Lance's button up shirt.

     "Don't worry, your secret it safe with me. I won't tell anyone you're secretly a nerd." Lance assured him. Keith pursed his lips in disbelief. "Okay, what if I told you a secret about me, and then we're even?"

     "A secret about Detective Lance McClain?" Keith said smoothly, biting his lips to keep from smiling.

     Lance nodded.

    "Alright, I'm tempted; I'll bite."

     "I once went undercover as a farmer in a produce market, and the next day I found a fake profile of myself on farmersonly.com. To this day it remains, and I am embarrassed to admit I have no idea how to take it down."

     Keith laughed loudly at this, throwing his head back slightly, and Lance couldn't help but grin at him. Keith was laughing so much he couldn't give himself a break to ask why Lance was in farmersonly.com.

     Okay, so maybe Hunk did give fantastic advice. Lance would be sure to thank him thoroughly when he got back to work tomorrow. After all, if it weren't for Hunk, Lance would passive aggressively be doing paperwork at his desk all day instead of on another date with Keith.

     "Hey," Lance said softly when Keith's laughter had died back.

     "Hey," Keith responded.

     "I'm sorry I got so... defensive back when I found out you were a lawyer," Lance apologized. "I think you were right when you assumed I'd be intimidated."

     "You wouldn't be the first person to be intimidated, and truth be told, I kind of got a little into the bickering as well," Keith admitted. Lance kissed him again, and as he did this, Lance was really grateful that he hadn't actually messed up his chances with Keith. Hunk was right, missing out on this chance would have been the biggest mistake of Lance's life. He knew the moment he saw Keith that something amazing would go down between them, but he had honestly expected this. In a way, Lance is glad. He's a sucker for surprises.

     "Oh and Keith?" Lance mumbled, pulling apart from Keith.

     "Hm?"

     "Jurassic Park isn't a mediocre movie; I only said that to argue with you."

     "I know." And Keith kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Greg's is a real restaurant and it is a m a z i n g. Thank you for reading!!


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